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Chapter 12

Well.. it sort of worked, but the dark haired boy would never admit it, especially not to John.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm here now, and the minivan isn't. So what's the big deal?" John replied matter-of-factly, taking a seat next to Stu and pulling his pack of ciggies from his coat pocket and lighting one up.

"What took ye so long?" His art college friend asked him, shrugging off his earlier question completely and scooting closer to John. It might not have been significant to anyone else, but the way John leaned in slightly towards Stuart, their shoulders touching as they talked quietly, blocking out the rest of the world around them...it didn't go unnoticed by Paul.

He always notices the littlest things that happen between them, and he hated it. He hates that he wishes he was Stuart, he hates how John had put him to the side.

"Mimi is what took so long. She was gettin' all worked up about me leaving. I had to lie about how much we're being paid just to get away from 'er." John grumbled, taking a drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly.

Him and Stu began talking to each other in hushed voices, sitting close and laughing every couple minutes, probably talking about something related to the art school. Or maybe not, Paul thought, tearing his eyes away from them and turning towards George, a blank look on his face.

He thought it was wrong that he was so... so... jealous of Stuart. It's not like John was his to take in the first place, even though Paul wanted to believe that sometimes.

Pete and George soon got caught up in a conversation about the trip to Hamburg, talking loudly and animatedly, and never before had Paul felt so alone in a room full of his best mates. He just wanted to disappear, so he'd never have to worry about John again. He wanted to forget he even existed, that his feelings for him existed. But it was too late for any of that, he was in too deep for him to forget.

Ever since he'd felt John's lips on his own, it's all he wanted for the past two years. And it wasn't just the urge to kiss him anymore, he simply wanted John. He'd fallen for his best friend in time, and he'd fallen hard.

He let his mind wander back to the day he realized it for the first time, it was only around a year ago but felt so far away in his mind.

July 15th, 1959

Maybe he'd always felt some sort of love for his best friend, a deep bond between the two of them that was formed when John lost his mother. They were the same then, they were equal.

But after a while, John stopped showing any signs of mourning for Julia, and as he got better and better each day, he began to stop needing Paul as a shoulder to cry on. Paul didn't want it to be over, as messed up as it was. He wanted to be the one John came to in his times of trouble, the one that got to see him cry and just let all of his pent up emotions out.

But soon John just locked away all of his feelings, and he no longer needed his doe eyed friend for comfort. He'd found his best way of dealing with the problem, and it was to pretend there wasn't one. So then, every time him an Paul were together, it was different. He went back to being a sarcastic git, he went back to his witty jokes and his sense of twisted humor. He started writing songs again, he continued to make little drawings in his notebooks. He was John again, and this John only came to Paul when he wanted to write, or when Mimi was getting on his nerves.

Paul knew that this was the way it was supposed to be between the two of them, but it just felt wrong.

One day, however, things were a little different. It was exactly one year after the day Julia had passed away, and John had spent the majority of his day locked up in his room, listening to the radio and blocking out everything else that seemed unimportant. He didn't want to get upset, he'd worked too hard on keeping every thing inside to just throw away all of his effort. He simply didn't want to talk to anyone, didn't want to acknowledge anything but the music playing in his room.

Mimi had tried getting him to eat that day, but there was no answer whenever she attempted to talk to him.

What John didn't remember was that there had been band practice scheduled for that day, and he never left his room. Everyone assumed he just decided not to show up, but Paul knew otherwise.

He hurried to John's house after they decided he really wasn't coming. It took longer to get there than he liked, having to pack his guitar with him the whole way. He knocked on the front door and Mimi opened it, greeting Paul politely, even though she never really liked the lad.

"Is John here?" He asked, his voice thick with worry.

"I don't think he's in the mood for company, but you can try." She said, sighing.

Paul nodded and went upstairs to John's door, listening inside and only hearing music being played.

"Hey, open up." He said, knocking twice on the door.

No answer.

"I didn't walk all the way here for nothing, John. Lemme in."

No answer.

Paul was starting to get impatient, tapping his foot on the floor. A couple minutes passed and nothing happened so he turned to leave, feeling defeated. "Fine, I'll go." He said, picking up his guitar again and sighing in frustration.

It was then that the door opened, and John was standing there still dressed in his night clothes, his hair a mess and his Buddy Holly glasses on. Paul looked at him curiously, a little confused when John simply walked back over to his bed, sitting down without saying a word.

The dark haired boy followed suit, shutting the door, going into John's bedroom and sitting next to him, careful to keep his distance. John swallowed thickly and rested his head in his hands, looking down at his lap.

"It's been a year, Paul. A whole year since she's been gone." He said.

Paul patted his back, unsure of what to say. Nowadays, he tried to watch what he said or done around John, afraid of the reaction he'd get. So instead, he just sat there silently.

John closed his eyes tightly, trying to blink away the first few tears, determined not to cry. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'm sorry, I know you must miss her a lot." Paul said quietly, unknowingly making it a lot harder for John to control his sudden emotions.

One tear escaped his eye and he wiped it away angrily, his expression still blank. Paul saw John do this and immediately regretted his words, watching as John slowly broke down, hiding his face with his hands as he continued to silently cry, glad he could at least be quiet about it, fighting away the urge to just start sobbing uncontrollably.

Paul took John into his arms without a word, holding him against his chest and letting him cry. He realized then that it was all worth it. Even though John could be a prick sometimes... well, most of the time...If putting up with him all those times meant that every once on a while they could have moments like this, it was worth it.

John was worth it, because he loved him.

Paul was snapped out of his reverie by a tap on his arm and George's excited voice. "C'mon mate, we're leaving!" His younger mate yelled excitedly, pulling on his sleeve like a child.

Paul gave him a half-smile, standing up from his chair. He realized everyone else was already outside as George pulled him along, as eager as the rest of them to finally get this show on the road.

Paul dared to glance over at John, just a quick little peek to ease his mind (even though he knew it would do the exact opposite).

He was still talking to Stu in that secretive way, not allowing anyone else to hear. It killed him when they were like this, he was always curious as to what could be so interesting, but at the same time didn't want to know. If they kept this up, it was going to be quite a long time in Hamburg

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So um yeah we're moving on to the hamburg years. And I can assure you, this isn't going to be pretty. Vote or comment? They make my day c: